I imagine that Evan Caminiti does a lot of traveling by night. True to the title of his new full-length for Chicagoâ€™s stellar Immune label, Night Dust is evocative of nighttime views of distant cities or snow-covered fields. Itâ€™s claimed that Caminiti (also of Barn Owl) has developed his technique by adding space, synthesizers, and other tools in place of â€śamplifier worshipâ€ť and bleached desert landscapes. But the backbone of his sound remains, and his ability to imply narratives or stories with these pieces â€“ to vary them and provide mysterious surprises that remain remote, but nevertheless become comforting as they come back around.
The first of these surprises comes midway through â€śReturning Spirits,â€ť with an emerging chord progression out of the deep. But if one listens even closer, one can hear breathtaking intricacy in the quieter parts. These fluttering guitar bits make Night Dust extremely present, the earthbound antidote to so much light, ethereal drone music being released these days. With one possible exception, the album flows gorgeously from start to finish. The gorgeously dissonant â€śStar Circleâ€ť whites out a sorrowful chord progression. â€śThe Riverâ€ť is full of masterful heavy rumbling and soaring guitar.
Like zoning out on a single star while driving on a pitch-black road at night, these are broad, desolate landscapes, as traversed by a solitary night traveler.